Scorecard
by speakup22
Summary: Oneshot on Lisbon and Jane in the interrogation room. Anymore would give it away...


He was the picture of calm as she entered the interrogation room. Leaning back into a chair that shouldn't have allowed him to, with one leg gracefully crossed over the other. There is something impossible about him. And of course that picture wouldn't be complete without the trademark smile. A smile that seemed to have neither beginning nor end.

But this all crumbled as soon as he found her eyes. Whatever she might think she wasn't very good at hiding things from him. However much practice she had some things she couldn't help but wear on the surface, and this was no exception.

"Why did it have to be you?" he managed.

Even after all this time she was still one step behind him, floundering in the denial that he could actually read her mind. Frowning she started, "I don't know what you're…"

"Couldn't someone else have done it?"

It didn't take her long to catch up. So much of their communication didn't need verbalising. But surprise at his reaction didn't even come close to describing how she felt. She stared at him in disbelief.

"I don't understand, are you upset with me? I thought you would want it to be me. I called in more favours than I care to mention to make sure it was me. And not someone else who didn't know and didn't care. Who wouldn't understand. I did that for you. And you're upset with me?

Each sentence found her edging closer and closer to him, until finally she was leant right over the table. Eyes boring into his. Knuckles white against the wood. Sucking in air, suddenly conscious that she hadn't taken a single breath through her words.

But it wasn't anger she saw looking back at her. Defences suddenly down she was looking deep into the bit of him that wasn't impossible. The very core of his humanity. Insecurities, fears, hopes and dreams. The vulnerable Patrick Jane.

She had seen glimpses before but they had been fleeting. And she knew that she was the only one who had even experienced these.

"I just didn't want you to see that. Not yet." He knew before he finished that she wouldn't understand. He buried his face in his hands as if he could hide for a moment from her before lifting his sad eyes back up to hers.

"I didn't want you to see that part of me. A part that I can't take back. That will now always be a part of the person you see in front of you."

She walks around the table, never breaking eye contact as she closes the space between them. Leaning back gently she drops her voice to barely above a whisper.

"It doesn't scare me, you know that right?"

Even someone without his abilities would have been able to read the honesty and levity in her body language.

"Maybe not, but you deserve more than not being scared."

A silence falls over the two; they both knew this conversation wasn't going any further. Not today anyway. It would be left unfinished, but neither minded. Actually, whether they would admit it or not, they liked it that way. Being unfinished.

And just before the levity of what's going on is allowed to sink in, before either can quite process the implications of what's been said or thought, Patrick Jane is back. Disarming smile and all. Almost as if it never happened. Almost.

"So, did you find anything incriminating in my house?" he beamed.

"You know I didn't" trying her best to hide her grin. Welcoming the relief that he brings.

"So am I still a suspect?"

"How many times do I have to tell you you're not a suspect! You know we're just following protocol. It was you who decided to hole yourself up in here" she manages to get out whilst still suppressing her grin. Holding on as best she can to her 'business face'.

"That is true my dear. I just wanted to see how it feels to be on the other side of the table. To see you through their eyes."

And finally he gives her the opening he knows she's been waiting for. When she can drop her guard for a precious moment. When she can stop being boss for a moment, stop talking work and offer to make him a superhero costume. Or something like that.

"And do I look any different?" she quips with eyebrows raised.

"Well actually, you're really quite distracting. Radiant indeed in this lighting. Not that you're not normally…"

Shaking her head in mock protest before he can finish, pretending she doesn't like to hear it when he compliments her she rises and moves towards the door. But as she reaches out for the handle something stops her. Something drags her back. Even from behind he can see her whole body change expression. She hesitates for a moment before turning back to face him, her eyes filled with the compassion of moments they have just tried to ignore.

"Just one more question. And you really don't have to answer it if you don't want to. But on the wall opposite…you know…what's with all the tallying?"

His face is serious again, his eyes sorrowful. "Oh, that's my scorecard. On the right are all the people I've hurt, lied to, conned and cheated. On the left are the people I've helped. We've helped." He corrected himself. "The people we've saved"

"But you don't believe in all that cosmic score-sheet stuff, Van Pelt's 'Kingdom of Heaven'?"

"I don't. But working with you has made me believe again that a man is the sum of his actions. Something I had forgotten. And I'm even beginning to think that one day I will care what that will add up to for someone." In his eyes is that intensity that he saves for moments like these. Every word carries the weight of the universe. "And to make it matter to someone else, it has to matter to me first."


End file.
